Chapter 6

Nyx

The Wishing God

The New King

Three Centuries Prior

Nyx slowly closed the distance between she and the large white fountain the locals had accurately dubbed the Whispering Fountain. It seemed to them at this fountain more than anywhere else their wishes came true. The fountain was a thick glowing gold and silver statue of her father Aeltharion towering above the towns center outside the palaces gates. His face was bearded, and he held large scepter in his right hand which was meant to be charged with his divine Essence.

Within the scepter was a green orb which illuminated the fountain at night in a green and golden light that cast out in front of it an otherworldly glow. In the daylight the orb refracted sunlight casting glittery refractions on the town center. She loved to sit here and watch the rainbow patterns swirl across the faces of the elves.

The tall statue's sword was sheathed in a scabbard at his side, his left hand held palm forward towards the sky, a snake wrapping its way around his arm. The snake was meant to symbolize her mother, Vaylith.

Though the elves were a considerably more talented in the arts than the humans, this was not a close image of her father. Many seemed to think powerful Gods sported large beards, and looked old to convey their ancient wisdom. In reality her father often chose to wear the face of a young elvish man with wavy locks, a shadow of brown facial hair, and his true golden eyes. The major distinction between him and the elves were his otherworldly eyes. They took in both the picture in front of him and the whole world at once. While her father did take a scepter into battle at times he more often carried a battle axe than a sword.

Nyx frequently came to this spot to beg forgiveness from her father, to worship him, and other times to spite him. She deliberately answered wishes that her father would see as a betrayal. She reveled in the idea that her father watched them take place through the eyes of his worshippers at his place of worship.

The more of his worshippers who gathered the more likely she was to come. This city used to be his, but now it was becoming hers. With every passing year the only comfort she could take was in turning her fathers followers and making his precious heart city worship her. Her fathers powers peaked in the places where his followers spent the most time, as did her own. She felt the competition of their forces channeled in the city. The smokey smell of his Essence as it changed course whenever she came close to it. If she was going to spend an eternity here she would at least chase out his Essence. He would not gain strength where she was meant to spend her days in prison and if it was to be her prison she would at least make it her kingdom.

Nyx spent days at a time waiting by his fountain until enough wishes had been gathered and then she would answer the most inappropriate of wishes and prayers. Sometimes she gathered the wishes and answered them in their dreams, plaguing them with thoughts of all of the things they had wished for in anger and spite. Other times she was kinder, allowing them to only see what could be and not what would in their dreams. When she answered the kinder wishes and desires she often converted her fathers followers to become her own. Occasionally to convert the most stubborn she stepped out of the Ethereal Shroud so that they might see her. For the brief moment they were lost in time as they took in her beauty. Even though granting wishes was her duty, it was her primary goal to be a nuisance to her father, frustrating him from where he undoubtedly watched in the Gods ethereal realm.

Nyx looked around as she sat under the fountain. There were none of her personal followers about or her fathers and it was eerily quiet.

There had recently begun to be whispers that the fountain was cursed, as ills befell only Aeltharion's followers when they visited. It was a nice touch, she admitted to herself. If her father had realized he would lose ground here he probably would've exiled her to Thaladore or some other elvish city. Perhaps with his stranglehold on the people he though he could keep a better eye on her here as he looked through the eyes of his followers to observe her. How misguided he had been. In her temple she gifted the most truly devout answers and wishes. The more she answered, the more elves left her fathers following and joined flock.

She felt the slight speckling of the water on her back as it misted her shoulders and neck.She allowed the warmth of the sun to hit her through the Ethereal Shroud and the cool water refreshed her face. As she removed parts of the shroud smells of the external world wafted in. First it was the cold breeze, then cinnamon on the air from the woman who baked the most delicious pastries, then it was fresh cut grass, and finally the smell of a warm day.

There was a woman about ten feet in front of the well, wishing for love.

Usually Nyx didn't respond to these requests by this fountain prefer to extend her powers here for the more nefarious but something about the summer air, the hot glow touching her face, made Nyx reach out into the field of wishes in front of her looking for the woman's connection.

She felt the tether and followed it like a string. She closed her eyes and from almost a birds eye view she saw the man the woman lusted after some distance away looking out from a second floor window.

She listened for some time to his daydreaming. She identified the string, a sort've blue glowing line that she traced from his thoughts. She flicked through the through index of her wishes from the past weeks. There within the tether she found the wish.

A fleeting thought from six weeks prior. "I wish I knew what she thought of me, I would take her out if I did." The small glimpse was enough.

There love was merely a crush, and answering its call was only a small rush. She smiled, at least they were pure of heart. She thought of the butcher from earlier that day.

Nyx released a gentle flow of her divine Essence into the strand attached to the man. She shuddered a she watched the gold light flow up the strand. It filled her with a simple rush, less rich than those loves separated by time or distance. She enjoyed the taste of strawberries on her tongue. It once again filled her nose with the smell of peaches.

She then picked up the stand attached to the woman with her left hand. She completed the flow by sending a trickle of here divine energy into it. She connected the two strands with her Essence and then sent a larger jolt through them as they merged. The divine enchantment unfurled. Nyx let go of the strands sending them back to their respective recipients gently. Sometimes it felt good for her to do good. When it came to love Nyx could only work with what already existed. It baffled her how heart ache could exist and yet so many still longed for love.

She watched as the man let the feeling bubble up within his stomach. It churned inside him as he looked out his window. It had always been there.

Nyx opened her eyes from where she leaned back basking in the sun. She was greeted by her fathers statue above her. "Oh foo! You really know how to ruin a moment." She told the motionless statue. It looked nothing like him, but still its eyes seemed to bore down into her with disapproval.

Nyx was overcome with defiance and boredom. She had no greater purpose than this and it wore on her daily. When would her punishment end? When would she once again reunite with her Syriah so they could manage the tides of fate again? Her born from the water and she the wind? She'd begun to lose track of the days. Had she already been here one elven lifecycle? Two? The elves did not have short lives.

The creation of the humans was partially due to this. The elves understood time different, always managing their decisions without patience and care. Her father had begun to grow tired of watching the elven lives passing tediously. Humans grew at a swifter pace and they provided far more entertainment. Due to their short lifespans seemed to populate the world more quickly than the elves did.

Nyx turned her head and looked past three standing wooden casks which had just been unloaded by two burly Elvish men. A smaller male elf held in his hand a clipboard and was marking off each barrel. Even though their movement initially caught her attention what kept it was the dark alley behind them. Even in a city as beautiful and well kept as Sunshard there were dark places where men and women could be forgotten.

Just past the barrels the sun seemed to just miss lighting the alley and within it was a white hot glowing thread. "Syriah?" She asked aloud. She was incredulous. How long had it been since she had touched a thread her sister had as well?

The white chord had been so quiet Nyx nearly missed the hum of it. She lifted herself from the rim of the fountain and glided to it. She traced the thread picking it up from where it lay, pieces of strewn hay and dirt around it. Nyx barely touched it when the words hit her like a wall. As she lifted it into her hand she felt it. Her sisters touch, a slight lingering as she had lifted the thread for The Tapestry of Fate.

Nyx's heart raced as she caught an image of her sister. Her head was leaned forward, her black hair falling over her face as she hunched over her loom. Her fingers delicately plucking free the White Wish from the moving image she monitored. Nyx sat on the fountain edge in the Tapestry Syriah sat weaving. Nyx hadn't known she was being watched. No one knew when Syriah was watching. The Weavers guided her eye but Syriah chose her moments to right the balance of things carefully. Nyx wondered how many years in the making this wish had been?

It was Syriah's duty to manage the Tapestry and even with her father and mothers objections to Nyx. They would not upset the balance by stopping her from sending Nyx the wish. If they did, the Weaver's would also have their say about it. "Thank you." Nyx whispered to her sister. She felt the pang of her sister's sadness as she wove the Tapestry.

Her sister turned to her, and in a whisper so light she almost couldn't hear it. "Not all their blood is as it seems..." She heard her speak. Thunder clapped around them. Syriah looked back to her weaving her eyes a glow with a bright neon light. From her mouth came a deep voice which spoke to Nyx. "Don't trust those with something given, not born." She wove her warning into the Tapestry of Fate. Syriah shook her head, her eyes returning to their usual gold. She looked at Nyx, then the Tapestry.

Nyx understood in this moment her sister had a brief window to watch her, to warn her. But what was the warning? Nyx grabbed her throat, feeling the pain there. "I love you. I don't understand. Please..." She said, "You have to tell me." Nyx wiped a tear from her cheek as she looked up.

"I'm sorry." Syriah's voice said warmly. "That's all that Mother will share."

The vision ended, the skies closed. Nyx cried out, "No, show me more!" She begged her sister. No answer came. After a moment Nyx focussed on her duty. She turned her attention to the wish, straightening her shoulders, the air around her growing tense. She was not amused at the sight of the White Wish. White Wishes changed the tides of fate permanently, and there was no return once granted. They could not be plucked from the Tapestry.

Nyx felt the weight of the wish in her hands as its glow intensified when she picked it up. Despite the way the threads were woven into the Tapestry she sometimes found herself wondering if they were truly inevitable. The wish bounced around the alley repeating itself to her. "I wish the King were dead, I wish the King were dead, I wish the King were dead." The strand whispered.

What did it all mean? What did she mean their blood was not as it seemed?

Despite seeing the boy in her minds eye she still traced the White Wish pulling at the chord until she was close to the boy much like a horseman lassoing a calf. She was tempted to pick up Tapestry and to look at the strands her sister had just woven, but she knew she was meant to attend the boy and his White Wish.

She looked up to the sky and spoke, "As you wish." She smiled. Part of her hated not knowing. She trusted her sister. She had to trust her sister. But a small voice, far away, was tired of always doing as she was told.

She felt the seriousness of the moment take over her and pushed away her personal desires. This was a White Wish, and it came with a clear warning. Her usual playful smile, and mischievous grin no longer covering her face.

The boy sat hidden behind two barrels of hay which had been discarded behind the mead hall for the men to piss in. It was moments like these she was glad of the Ethereal Shroud, so that she did not have to smell the alley she walked in. She hovered gracefully in stark contrast above the filth of the stagnate picture of urine, water, bile, and whatever else had concocted a mixture on the alleys cobblestone floor.

Nyx looked back at the men. To show herself? Or not to show herself? She questioned. Freeing herself from the Shroud meant revealing herself to everyone around that could glimpse her. This was not a mere second of viewing, this conversation would take some time.

She sat beside the child for a few moments deciding. She rubbed his back gently and he leaned into the warmth he felt. He did not know she was there, but he felt the comfort of it.

He felt her Essence as she pressed her hand into him back calming him. She did not want him to spook and alert the others when she revealed herself. Nyx trembled as she flitted through his wishes. His troubles began as he wished for his mothers life.

Nyx was not able to bring back the dead.

Shortly after that the vivid wishes began. Wishes so bright hot that she could taste them before she ever granted them.

She looked down at the floor. The common wished, blue strands, filling the street and tethering to her hands and chest. All of them were blue wishes except for his. From the center of the boys chest ran a bright hot White Wish, the color of her mothers eyes when she was reading someone.

"So, is there a reason you want the King dead?" The Goddess whispered appearing beside him. Her arms folded around the boy as she brought him close to her chest. He shrieked as he looked up at her.

"Witch!" He hissed.

Nyx was so taken aback she burst into laughter. What a human concept coming from an elf. The elves tended to simply believe in the divine. Nyx patted the boy on the head. "Maybe I am a witch... I think you'd prefer that. I myself, am far worse than witch." She smirked taking secret joy in frightening him. She loved the power she held over the mortals.

"What could be worse than a witch?" The boys green eyes narrowed. His front tooth was missing and he was emaciated. His eyes eerily reminded her of her own mothers.

"Your people know me as Nyx. You have been sending me your wish. Albeit quietly I suppose if my sister had to involve herself..."

"What wish?" The boy scowled.

"Don't play dumb, you know the one." She smirked and then pinched his cheek.

"You're not serious?" The boy asked.

She tousled his thick brown hair, an uncommon color for an elvish child. "Serious indeed." She crossed her arms and frowned. "How old are you? You look like a child but you sound much older when you speak and your wishes are certainly older."

He hesitated, "I'm twelve." He whispered to the goddess. She looked at him with a sense of pity. The elves were not kind to the halflings. "And I think I know who you are..." He trailed off casting his eyes down. "Are you going to hurt me?" He whispered near tears.

"Oh no dear, I'm going to help you." She lifted his chin. "I'm going to grant your wish to kill the King." Nyx looked down at the wish. In the pit of her stomach, she felt dread.